


William

by sunshinestealer



Category: Hazards of Love (Album)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6740668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinestealer/pseuds/sunshinestealer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Queen of the Forest rescues a babe from the throes of pain and sickness, turning him against his own kind in the process. This all changes, however, when our heroine enters the picture.</p><p>(Following the events of the first few songs on the album.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	William

It had been a bright summer’s day when the Queen of the Forest became aware of the babe’s cries. Deep in the forest brook, the reeded cradle had paused up against a natural dam, leaving the baby no choice but to wait for a caretaker… or to tip over and drown.

Which, frankly, most people would have done at the sight of the growths and the sickly pallor of the child. The buboes contorting the baby’s face looked rather painful, crowned by a large, crimson birthmark with obvious tracks of blood vessels across the skin.

This body wouldn’t do. The Queen leaned down to pick up the child, rocking it in her arms until the cries quieted. It was in pain, she could tell that much.

She may not have been able to heal sickness — that was for the other gods she had jealously refused to cohort with. But it was possible to transmogrify another body and adapt the soul to work with it.

He would be her little prince of the forest.

* * *

 

The child’s old body was gleaned for parts that were still healthy — magic could fill in the rest. To aid his maturity and prevent the necessity for 24 hour care, she had woven together a new body that was more suited to her sylvan design.

Within the next 24 hours, she had a beautiful child of the forest. The form of an infant white hart, making the former human instantly able to walk, despite a few moments here and there where he tipped over. She allowed him use of his human body — but only when she chose fit, and even then, it was... more unique than humankind were typically accustomed to. Eyes of ice blue, and hair that was a shocking white colour. Patchy freckles to resemble a deer's spots. Even small antlers growing up from his crown.

But, her work was done. She had delivered the child from cancer and the miseries of whatever genetic disease had forced him to be outcast from human society in the first place.

There was no name for her new adoptive son — so she let him decide when he came of age. It was a surprise to her that he chose William, but he confessed to overhearing the name from a settlement towards the north.

That was when the Queen knew that he was getting a little too curious. She had chosen this form specifically so he would be isolated, and thus, unable to return to the world of man. The cruel world that had formerly rejected him.

Generally, William was left to his own devices. But as he grew and developed - into quite the handsome young man - the Queen was more and more vexed with every act of rebellion. Clearly, being half human and half creature of the forest was too much of a luxury.

So, she limited his time spent as a human to the night time. Yet still, the wayward son would sneak off to wherever he could spy upon humanity. Down in the valleys, by travellers’ caravans, near the hunters’ cabins (those of whom who respected the forest and left votive offerings, so as not to become fair game themselves).

Not wanting to drive away her son any further, the Queen stuck to her arrangement — daytime as the yearling stag, and nighttime as the warped human whose curiosity could not be slaked by the goddess’ assertions of their flawed morality and, most of all, their inherent stupidity.

William half suspected that Mother had become jealous of humanity at some point, bound to this endless taiga, partly encircled by Offa’s Wall. She grew petty and destructive, even with the best offerings the hunters had to offer. Humans were free to come and go through the landscape, to live their lives as they pleased. Not that he would ever admit this to the forest deity, however. Mother had a wrathful temper, after all.

Even after he had grown into a man, his curiosity towards the world of humans had only increased. He had harboured a fascination for the travellers and hunters he had seen, who gladly walked hand in hand and seemed to have secret smiles and eyes only for each other.

Naturally, having been alone with none but the animals and his mother for company, William longed for social interaction of any kind. He confessed this need to the Queen, and she merely petted his face, reminding him of what a fool’s errand it would be to fall in love with a human. Then her grip grew unnecessarily harsh.

_ “If you ever do fall in love with a human, it is at their own risk.” _

William had never forgotten those stinging words.

And yes, it _was_ a fool’s errand as he watched Margaret abscond from the woods after their night of passion, back towards the convent building that she called home.

But how could he help it when the longing for her was exactly what he had seen in the couples he had observed from afar, as the white stag who had used his human intelligence to get the slip on hunters throughout his lifetime. The glances he’d seen from nomads around a campfire, hands slipping into each other’s when they thought nobody else was looking.

The passion he had shared with Margaret was even more intense than what he had observed from afar. Something he never would have been able to conceive without putting it into practice himself. Margaret (a name he now cherished upon his tongue) had responded to him in kind, that same loving look in her eyes…

Oh, Mother would be angry with him, there was no doubt of that. His freedom had already been hard won, after years of proving that he was loyal only to her and that his interest in humans was just a curiosity he liked to indulge in from time to time.

* * *

 

 

William’s luck with the hunters had run out, a nasty, crude bullet grazing his hind leg. Enough pain to cause an adrenaline rush, so he could hurriedly escape to safety, but the wound continued to throb and sting after much licking and bleated appeals to Mother to come and spirit him away to another part of the woods.

It wasn’t that she didn’t care. He had long grown used to her capricious nature, and her ‘lessons’ on the cruelty of nature.

By some miracle, the hunters - who should have easily been able to follow the blood trail he left behind - were diverted, off on some other path. He had frozen in fear at the sight of Margaret on horseback, until she quieted him with her gentle gestures. He was greeted with another turn of good luck — Margaret’s basket just happened to have the perfect collection of herbs to make a poultice for his wound, using a nearby leaf to stick the medicinal rub in place. It instantly soothed, and William was amazed by the human’s kindness. Certainly, Mother had been wrong about humanity all these years… Seeing that they could love each other and exhibit generosity of this kind, when Mother was often cold and cruel, despite saying that she loved him as her own child, and thus had offered him asylum within her realm.

Margaret held onto one antler and his underbelly to right William to his hooves, and there he noticed - for the first time in hours - the colour of the sky. It was dimming, and he realised that the girl was possibly about to get the shock of her life. Unless shapeshifting was a common thing in the human world. Which he was sure it was not, going by Mother’s long-worn assertions about humans despising any form of difference within each other, casting out their diseased and unwanted. Just like he had been.

When he felt dusk draw in and his body begin to tingle with the effects of the transformation, William swore that he heard a scream from Margaret. Understandable. Especially with the earth quaking softly beneath their feet as the magic did its work.

But… that shocked look had transformed into a smile when she saw his human form. Soft hands came to cup his chin, and he flinched — knowing that his Mother’s gentle touch could so easily turn into a biting grip. But no, the lovestruck girl merely stared, looking into his face like it was the most beautiful and unusual thing she had ever seen in her life.

William responded in kind.

One thing led to another.

Margaret had promised after that night that she would return to the woods for visits. She spoke of the story of Cupid, a god of love who struck humans with arrows of love when they had found their soulmate.

“And this is… us?” William asked.

“What do you think?”

“…” Struck speechless, he had merely watched as Margaret lay with him under the canopy of stars, murmuring the names of the constellations and laughing when William seemed to know them by much more ancient terms.

Perhaps it was for his own good that Margaret left when she did. Her horse had been tied to a tree with only its nosebag for the night, and needed watering before she headed back to the village.  She would leave the taiga by following the same path she had used to enter, while originally foraging for mushrooms and herbs.

William groaned with frustration as he transformed back into his cervid form with the first few rays of sunrise, signalling that he would follow Margaret and her horse to safety. He could sense his Mother’s presence, and she appeared to be either dormant, or in another part of her forest entirely. She would not know the joys that Margaret and William had experienced on this lovely night. He would let it remain his sordid secret.

This was not so easy when the wanting began to fill his mind again, crashing back and forth against the tide barrier in his mind until it was almost unbearable. But, as he reminded himself, Margaret had gone… he had seen her head down towards the village, desperately hoping that she would honour their agreement to meet again as soon as they possibly could.

He went through most of his days, preoccupied with the fervid optimism that one day, his own true love would appear at the verge of the woods. For every day that Margaret delayed their reunion, William endeavoured to come up with different excuses. Perhaps Margaret and her fellow sisters no longer needed to trek up into the woods. Perhaps there was some terrible affliction that had swept through the village.

On the day when he thought he could no longer bear the ache in his heart, Margaret returned. Except… with a _real_ reason for Mother's certain  wrath and rage. But this fear quickly dissipated, instead replaced with a sense of apathy. His mother had lied to him all of his life, keeping him from experiencing this joyous union, this connection with another human being.

He would deal with Mother when the time came. For now, another lovely night was upon them.


End file.
